Candace Robb: The Guilt of Innocents

Lucie pulled his face down to hers and kissed him long and hard. When she let him go, she said, ‘Come back to me now, my love. It is over. Your part is finished.’

He took her hand in his and breathed more easily. ‘It is. It is done.’

For George Hempe it had only begun. The bailiff’s court was crowded with people who suspected Osmund Gamyll of selling goods stolen from their homes and businesses, as well as the usual onlookers, curious what sort of heir to a knight of the realm would stoop to theft and murder merely to accumulate wealth. He judged that with so many already making claims there would be more to come, and in the interest of recovering as much as possible he postponed Osmund’s execution for a fortnight or longer — most likely he would be in the castle gaol until after the Yuletide. Archbishop Thoresby agreed to the delay.

His notoriety as the bailiff who’d scotched the thief brought him even more trade. He felt he was too busy to sleep. But even had it not been good for business, Hempe would not have regretted assisting Owen with the investigation, for he did not see how he might otherwise have begun his courtship of Lotta.

As Jasper gazed down on the wonder of Emma Archer, her impossibly tiny fingers wrapped around Captain Archer’s calloused one, he felt at peace. This was Jasper’s family, this was where he belonged, where he would always belong. He was at ease as he laughed with Archbishop Thoresby and Brother Michaelo over Gwenllian’s and Hugh’s efforts to dominate their new sibling. He was comfortable helping Kate and Alisoun greet people at the hall door, helping them out of their snow-encrusted cloaks and directing them to the refreshments. He felt himself moving in time to Tom Merchet’s merry fiddling.

He’d had the honour of taking the beautifully wrapped mazer from Brother Michaelo on his arrival and delivering it to the captain. He’d watched as Emma Ferriby, first godmother, had cradled her namesake in her arms so that Dame Lucie — his ma — could unwrap her gift. She’d exclaimed in wonder at the beautiful workmanship and held it up to Jasper to examine while the captain — his da — beamed and the archbishop proclaimed loudly, ‘Well done, Archer.’

Maud, the wet nurse, stood with Magda Digby off to one side, awaiting her charge, her own pretty babe in her arms. Jasper was glad Magda had been there when his mother’s labour began, even though the Gamyll birthing cross had made an easy delivery likely. Sir Baldwin had gladly let the captain keep it until after the birth. Still, Magda’s presence had eased everyone’s fears.

It was a wonder how everything changed with the birth of a healthy child.

‘We’ve all much to be grateful for,’ Master Nicholas said, quietly joining Jasper. ‘May God watch over this household.’

‘Amen,’ whispered Jasper. He noticed Alisoun sitting down, free for a moment. He went to her.

She smiled up at him as she fanned her face with her long-fingered hands. She had beautiful hands. ‘Come, sit beside me, tell me all the gossip,’ she said.

‘I’d hoped to hear of your meeting with the shipman’s daughter,’ said Jasper.

Alisoun shrugged. ‘She found me unsuitable. I know nothing of cloth and ribbons, jewellery, shoes, hats.’

‘That’s part of what’s so pleasant about you,’ Jasper said. He reached for her hand.

She gave it to him, curling her long fingers through his.